Towering, deafening and fond of a destructive stomp: it seems appropriate that the Japanese four-piece Bo Ningen have released their third album the same week Godzilla reappears on cinema screens. After building a reputation as a gut-rattling, face-melting live act in their adopted base of London, Bo Ningen exhibit a more contemplative side on III, a wildly imaginative record saddled with a utilitarian title. But in a stuffed King Tut's, the emphasis remains firmly on cosmic shock and awe.

With distinctive long hair and longer robes, they are a band who look convincingly psychedelic, even if the roving, exploratory nature of their twin-guitar assault, augmented by Korg sub-wobbles and reverb-drenched mic effects, feels less likely to open the doors of perception than take a shotgun to the hinges. Bassist and lead singer Taigen Kawabe toggles between full-throated singing and punk yelps while his bandmates judder through complex riffs, remaining impressively surefooted among the tricksy time signatures.

DaDaDa, a bracing four-minute burst from III, is the poppiest encapsulation of their capabilities to date, with an aching vocal melody among the soundwash that sounds like a distant echo of Julee Cruise's Twin Peaks theme. But of all the various space-time dimensions Bo Ningen want to explore, the mainstream is probably fairly low on the priority list. They do inspire impressive devotion, though: a handful of fans slam-dance throughout the hour-long set.

The climax is an extended version of Daikaisei, already a multi-part epic, that lasts almost 15 minutes. Most guitarists have thrown an arm windmill or two in their time; by the fourth distinct phase of the track, guitarist Yuki Tsujii is spinning his cherry-red axe around by the neck. Their ability to wring multiple surprising moments out of one monster riff is one of the things that make Bo Ningen so thrilling – not so much Godzillas as Mothras of invention.